


Override the Sun

by mitjo



Series: Back to the Future [1]
Category: Long Exposure (Webcomic)
Genre: Angst, Future, Future!Mitch, Going into the Future, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Not Actually Unrequited Love, One-Sided Attraction, Time Travel, fear of failure, sorta??
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-29
Updated: 2016-11-29
Packaged: 2018-09-02 22:50:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,975
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8686429
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mitjo/pseuds/mitjo
Summary: Jonas is  unsatisfied with how things are going in his life, from the chaos that is occurring at school to his own deep inflicted insecurities.He’s unhappy and let’s himself slip into a depression where he feels like the future looks disastrous for him. That is until he wakes up in the future, he has his own apartment, he’s not under Dean’s roof anymore and- Woah wait- he’s married to his bully Mitch Mueller?!





	

The grimy feelings inside his stomach are at ease when the clouds don’t override the sun.

Jonas enjoyed the days when everything seemed a little bit brighter, it was an indicator that despite his own self doubt, things were going to be okay. In its own way, the sun has always included him by basking him in the comfort that, one of these days, he will soon also be a part of his own well written novel that will have him flourishing, maybe even make his dear sister proud.

Then there were other times where the skies were permanently inked with the gloom of grey. The world would be in a black and white filter, lasting for about a week, with blotchy feelings brewing slowly. It left an unpleasant taste in his mouth that was craving moisture and Jonas knew well that the little pit of black in his stomach was spreading into areas all over his body. Most importantly, his own mind was starting to turn against him.

Skateboarding helped.

It allowed him to have a balance that he wouldn't get by being at home. In his peripheral he could see the little wisps of lights trailing after him, they are not so much as chasing him as they are friends skating alongside him. He appreciated their beauty alone, besides, they were like an audience always at a standing ovation for him, applauding him for being special and surviving each day.

But not everything can be solved with pretty lights, no matter how much they resemble mystifying starlight leftover from a supernova blast. Even specialties can cause the most disgruntled of reactions.

Jonas is aware he can’t skateboard his problems away, but he sure as heck will try, each time with more vigor than the last. He can pretend that those bitter words full of hate are being physically thrown at him, because then he’ll have the ability to dodge them. He can somehow find a way to lunge his body away from the upcoming mood drop, but he realizes it’s too late because the insults were already etched to the seam of his skin.

The jocks at his school love adding that extra back-breaking spice.

His face was like a red and white target ready to be struck by sharp pins. They saw Jonas this morning and thought to themselves that this was going to be the day they completely smash through his self esteem as if he were a toy to be mangled with.

Today, the pokes at him turned into aggressive jabs with the sharp edge of elbows hard enough to bruise. He would have to check later if the squishy part of his flesh was really turning purple, lord knows he bruises very easily. Jonas guesses that it's just another part of him that was too weird, too weak, and never enough.

 _“Are those freckles or do you have a disease?”_ Thanks man, he’s never had that one before! It’s not as if he’s never tried to scratch them off his skin before.

 _“Your daddy hit you to give you those two shiners?”_ First of all, Jonas doesn’t have a real dad, second of all, the red under his eyes are in no way akin to bruises. But thanks man, it’s all good.

 _“Check out that fat dork on the drums.”_ Double kill combo! It’s always a nice hit!

_“You’re a freak.”_

Jonas skates faster.

He’s taken a few laps around the block, the skies have grown darker, notifying him that it must be around eight. He’s late, the vibrating inside his pocket is making him sweat but he keeps going for another lap around until he has that spike of courage to come home.

The more speed he picks up the more his own blood begins to shake beneath his flesh. He’s familiar with those churns of anxiety that threaten to push up against his palate then rest against his tongue like bile ready to spill. He swallows it down because it’s all he can do, he has to be strong-willed or else he might burn in the process.

 

* * *

 

Jonas skids to a stop.

He takes a deep breath, knowing well it might be his last. Okay maybe that’s a bit too dramatic. It never feels that way though, because every moment with Dean he feels like a part of him is decaying. Another piece of him dying under his own shame because he can’t pull himself together for more than five darn seconds.

His fingers are twitchy opening the door.

There is only time for taking a few tentative steps in before he’s faced with the man he least wants to see.

There’s a mixture of components happening, not exactly frightened but more like alarmed with a layer of that sweet anxiety that always comes easy.

“Where have you been?” Dean’s voice is low. He’s a flame ready to start a wildfire, and Jonas is the trees with torn out branches and aged bark.

“Out,” Jonas internally screams. His defense mechanisms always involve being a sarcastic jerkface at the worst of times. _This isn’t the time._

“Whose house do you live under?” The man starts.

Jonas wants to squeeze his eyes shut. He wants to tell him to stop, he’s hear it thousands of times before. Today he isn’t having it, so can we skip this droning on about what a failure Jonas is? He’s never brave enough to say any of that.

“Yours, sir.”

“That’s right,” Dean get’s closer, his thick eyebrows coming down angrily and the frown lines on his face look practiced. “You live under my house so I _expect_ you to follow my rules and come home on time instead of screwing around.”

He want to give him a taste of his own medicine. His eyes glance off to the side where he’s more fixated on a long thin crack on the wall rather than the steel gaze of his caretaker. “Yes sir,” he mumbles again.

“You disrespectful little- Do you think you can make your own rules?”

“No sir.”

“I gave you everything you realize that right? Is that all you can say?” His voice is getting progressively louder and it makes Jonas want to shrink into a mindless ant. “Is that all?!”

Jonas shakes his head, “Yes- no sir?”

His voice is cracking. It’s cracking and he’s getting third degree burns all over again. The burning feeling behind his eyes is prominent but he can’t cry in front of Dean. He is weak, but even then he can’t completely collapse in front of this man.

“I did everything for you and your sister. Do you want to be monitored? Have a baby sitter at all times?” He’s waving a hand at his face, “Look at me!”

The volume shakes through his core and he has no choice but to look up.

Dean leans into him, sinister, “You answer me when I talk to you, you listen to my command, and stop being a so lazy and answer your phone. Do you understand?”

Jonas nods quickly, biting down at his lower lip hard enough to break the skin.

“I asked a question,” he spits, “ _Do you understand?!”_

“Yes sir,” It’s high pitched, squeaky and shameful.

“Get the hell up to your room.”

“Yes sir,” he mutters, dragging his school bag off his shoulder and up the stairs hurriedly. He misses the top step and almost falls flat on his face. His heart is in his throat and thudding loudly against his ears.

Everything is going wrong.

Sidney is not in their room yet. Jonas is grateful because he doesn’t bother to take out any work he has to do. He flops onto his mattress and makes a ball of himself in the sheets, hiding under them. He tosses his hat somewhere aside while he tries his best to curl in on himself. He wishes it’s enough to turn into a black hole.

Jonas tries to grab at the last pitiful attempts to stay strong, his own grip is slipping and there’s a wet layer of tears in his ears, shaking and pooling in the edges of his waterline. He shouldn’t do this, any other day he wouldn’t be so easy to break down.

He knows Dean’s words too well but today really wasn’t his day. He imagines his emotions as a messy stacked pile of work. Someone has swiped over it and now there’s nothing but scattered papers and crumpled up files all around him. He wants to set them on fire so he’d never have to feel this way again.

Jonas knows, god does he know, that things are hard.

They should get better. Things always get better.

There is a momentary sullen light glowing up the darkness beneath his blankets and all thoughts of his future becoming prosperous with the sun always shining are wiped away like dust off a window. These wisps of light can be a friend to hold his hand but it’s also a factor of his own deep insecurities.

He’s scared. He makes it stop, he wants it to stop, he never asked for this. Jonas never asked to do that stupid partner project or go through the dumb forest with none other than Mitch freaking Mueller or hell trespass a possible _government lab_ with him.

It starts off slow, then all at once as tears come out like everything he’s been holding back are a can of worms spilling. It’s choking him and making him bite into his hand to stifle the gut wrenching sobs. His shoulders jolt and shake with every single wave of sadness that hits him. It’s like he’s a dam breaking and even then, it’s the most silent he’s ever been.

Mitch, his worst bully ever, already out to ruin his life yet again and doing it one step at a time.

He already feels more like the _fucking freak_ he is.

Today he wasn’t even at school. Jonas thinks if he’s finally run away, leaving him behind in the excess with trying to cope with the events of this week.

He leans his head into his pillow, clenching his teeth and grips at his own hands to try to stop his incessant shaking. His jaw hurts, and he’s probably snotty and disgusting. His hands can only do so much to wipe away the sadness from his face.

Soon the crying dies down.

It turns into pathetic whimpering and feeling cold prickle over his skin. That’s another thing Jonas absolutely _adores_ about himself. Always so needy for attention, wanting the warmth of another person next to him, to be held and cradled like he was a damn child. Dean was right, he needed to grow up, he’s lazy and a complete idiot.

It’s probably unhealthy to go to sleep in these thoughts.

He doesn’t care.

Sleep starts dripping into his routine quickly. If there’s one thing Jonas knows how to do is sleep anywhere, anytime.

His eyes are stinging and probably red, he groans internally knowing he has to deal with it in the morning. By dealing with it, it’s more like pushing everything under the rug and hoping the red under his eyes will cover up the puffiness.

He sneers at the thought.

By tomorrow everything will be the same, Dean will chew him out again in front of Sydney this time, he’ll go to school, have those assholes grind up his last self worth, and deal with what? Light projection?

 _You’re a real piece of work Jonas Wagner,_ he thinks to himself.

And keeps thinking it.

There really is no better future for him.

Then he’s asleep.

 

* * *

  


Hot.

It’s the first thought he has when slowly waking up. There’s the feeling of sunrays glowing across the front of his face so he continues to keep his eyes closed, trying to prepare himself for being potentially blinded

It’s so hot.

Jonas went to sleep shivering last night, so why are temperatures rising to sweltering? It’s autumn too, the cloudy days are endless and every day sends a chill down your spine with the crisp winds. Why is it hot?

Well, not too hot to be sweaty and gross but. Warm. It’s coming from behind him and he leans into it. His body feels attracted to it although he’s not sure why.

He wonders vaguely if Sidney had seen him in his self hating and curled up state during the night. His bed is pretty small and not easy to cuddle in but she would do anything for him, he knows that at least. Although… She isn’t… This big?

His eyelids feel like heavy weights, they twitch a few times before finally opening up slightly. He’s squinting at a nicely painted wall, though some of the paint is chipping. It isn’t the color of his room but it doesn’t click right away.

So what, it’s really early in the morning and he feels like roadkill on the side of a road that’s been continuously ran over by multiple tracks. His mind could be playing tricks on him.

Jonas goes to lift up his hand to rub lazily at his eye when he it finally registers that he can’t.

Both of his arms feel trapped, a heavy weight resting against them, and his legs as well.They feel kind of numb actually and now that he’s conscious there's a sensation of pins and needles all over.  What the heck?

He glances down and _holy moly._

There’s a leg, a really long one, and a heavy arm draped over him. _Holy heck what did he do._

Jonas’s completely hits the breaks and completely stops moving, thinking and breathing. Then he tries to take action, failing to do the worm technique to wiggle away, the panic was swarming like bees in his head.

The figure that is dead weight over him stirs ominously. Jonas squeezes his eyes close, holding back a whimper as he waits for his impending doom to happen but what happens next is unlike anything he expected.

The arm just kinda moves, and twists until it’s wrapped around him, holding him for real and pulling him close. Oh god, that’s a lot of bare skin. There is a lot more contact than what Jonas is used to, Jeez Louise.

Then Jonas nearly shrieks when he feels a pair of lips dragging and pecking the back of his sensitive neck. He squirms again, trying to get in a position where he can roll of the bed and out the window.

Before he get’s a chance to though the man behind him laughs, chuckles? Uh, he doesn’t know but it’s not? Dangerous sounding?

“You trying to get away from me, Joey?”

The words should set several chills down his spine. That’s probably one of the top worst things a person can hear when waking up next to a complete stranger. He should be screaming bloody mary for pete’s sake!

Jonas is confused when his own stomach blossoms with comfort.

_Wait a second… That voice?_

“Come on Spots, don’t ignore me,” a finger pokes at his cheek, he can tell the man is grinning without having to see him, “I thought I was supposed to be the grumpy baby.”

Oh, he can recognize that voice anywhere.

Even when it’s gravelly with sleep and deeper than usual. He made himself memorize it back in middle school when he started terrorizing him. Now that just leaves with the question of what in the _fresh heck_ is Mitch freaking Mueller doing laying next to him.

Jonas is gonna mcfreaking lose it.

He manages to make a guttural noise because his mind fails to process terror and how to scream. It must sound like a noise of protest because the other responds with an over exaggerated groan and pushes his body up.

Jonas immediately snaps his gaze to him, his throat lurches at the sight of a completely naked back, even moreso at the sight of red faded lines along his skin. It is the split image of Mitch Mueller.

Hold up.

This isn’t… Mitch doesn’t have that hair. As his head turns to look back at him he can also tell his eyebrows are thicker. There is also a tattoo on his one arm and, oh gosh those sideburns. This isn’t his Mitch.

It’s an… Older Mitch?

He looks older, if those tired lines are anything to go by, and just by his ambience alone carries him a bit more older than what he’s used to. What the diddly darn heck.

“Jesus Joey, if looks can kill,” he breaks him out of his train of thought. This Mitch lets out a grossly loud yawn and lifts his arms above his head, two joints popping as he does so. Jonas grimaces at the sound. _That’s so gross..._

He must see the look on his face because his attitude shifts. “Bad day?”

Jonas doesn’t trust his voice enough to speak so he settles for a nod.

He then tries not to violently jerk away when Mitch’s hand comes up to brush a piece of his unruly hair out of his face. Jonas doesn’t want to look him in the eyes but he still catches the split second of the glazed intensity in his eyes. He had no idea Mitch can look at someone like… That.

“It’s gonna be okay,” he said, “I’ll make breakfast today, alright Spots?”

Jonas frowns. He doesn’t really see Mitch as much of a cooker and he is startled by the ridiculous snort that comes out of Mitch.

“Don’t worry!” He ruffles his hair while getting up, and Jonas whines in protest at his hair being mussed up ever more,“You want the cereal or waffles?”

He huffs out an exasperated laugh. “You can make waffles?” It’s the first thing he says to this Mitch and in response he nudges him against his shoulder. It makes him flinch for a moment, waiting for a shove or even a hit.

It never comes.

“Toasted waffles, asshole. I bought those goddamn eggos yesterday, remember? Those babies were on sale for half off can you believe that? They’re chocolate chip too!”

Hearing him, obnoxious rebellious “cool guy” Mitch, prattle on about waffles made Jonas brain nearly shrivel up. He’s not sure if he wants to cry or laugh. His body is reacting with a smile, not feeling like his own.

“I’m so proud, you bought half off eggos.” It’s a natural answer, and he doesn’t know why it came out so… Easy.

“You should be! I’m the best husband ever!”

He squawks.

Verbally. Similar to a chicken.

It’s a competition of who looks the most confused for a solid fifteen seconds before Mitch grins again, his face flushed.

“Jesus Joey, hope you’re not drinking all that fucking coffee before you go to bed.” Mitch makes his way to the door, “Text me when you’re gonna come out, want to make this breakfast fancy as shit.”

And with that he walks out, his tattoo exposed for him to see and Jonas gapes at it.

Jonas sits up abruptly after the door closes. That was his name on Mitch’s arm.

That was _his_ name on Mitch’s arm.

He had tattooed Jonas’s name _permanently_ on his skin for the entire world to see _._ It was inside one of those cheesy hearts and banners with a quote and oh my god?

Holy Mary full of grace.

Like a bat straight out of hell Jonas whips out of bed. This proves to be a mistake when his blood rushes all at once to his head.

“Oh god please,” he says and holds onto the nightstand. It wobbles, not steady and he nearly falls over again because of it. Stupid thing.

The edges of his vision are still blurry. He tries rubbing at his eyes again. And again. And again and again but then nothing is happening. Why isn’t anything happening?!

Jonas kicks his leg out of frustration, forgetting that there was the nightstand right in front of him. His bare foot kicks against the wood and the whole damn thing almost collapses. The bottles of pills and a picture frame actually do end up toppling and the crash makes him hiss. And his foot hecking hurts now. He has the grace of a baby penguin walking- well waddling for the first time.

He stares down at the nightstand, then tilts his head at the sight of a small case.

He’s ought to leave it alone, but then again, there’s small embroidered text that has his name scrawled on it. It must be his. It isn’t but… It is at the same time?

Jonas opens up the fake leathered case and inside there are a pair of dark glasses.

Oh boy.

He slides them into place. The blurry edges around his vision were now gone.

_Ohhh boy._

“Jonas you are fine.” He says out loud to himself, his own voice keeps makes him feel in touch with his sanity. “You haven't gone crazy this is probably a dream. You’re still stuck in dreamland and when you wake up you’ll have a good laugh about it. Hopefully. You’ll try I know you will.”

He hums delightfully, bending over to pick up the toppled bottles and frame.

Idly, he flips over the frame once he lines up the bottles and his mouth goes completely dry.

It looks like an old photo. It looks like Him, it’s Him and Mitch. His Mitch. The one that doesn’t have huge sideburns and dark hair.

His Mitch has his arm wrapped around his shoulders, he’s grinning- No, smiling? He himself is smiling too. Mitch is looking at him instead of at the camera and his gaze is weirdly soft. The Jonas in the picture doesn’t even know.

Instead, he has an armful of toys and? Tickets? Where are they? He squints before seeing a familiar arcade in the background. There’s a cartoon mouse printed on a flag cut off at the side.

Are they at a gosh dang Chuck E Cheese?

What the heck, what the heck, what the _fresh heck._

The frame hits the edge of the nightstand again. It slipped through the cracks of his fingers. This isn’t real. There is no way this is real.

He looks down at his left hand to try to find a flaw but no… There’s a ring. He’s failing to notice a lot of important details but he’s slowly unravelling. This one is the one that’s pushing him on the edge. There is no way.

What does this mean? Is the universe really so cruel that they place him in his own personal hell? Real funny! Never in his life will he set the bar so low as to marry Mitch freaking Mueller.

He fears he might go hysterical at the thought.

The ring might as well be wrapped around his throat with how suffocating it feels. He wants to take it off but there’s that nagging feeling that he shouldn’t. This body doesn’t feel like his own, it’s like a battle between two heads.

He’s going to get to the bottom of this.

It takes a few moments to find his phone in the mangled up sheets. He notes quietly that it’s new with a different case, it looks custom made, like some sort of gift- Whatever, no time.

He proceeds to spend a horrendous fifteen minutes scrolling through his contact list, there’s not many but he refuses to believe the one with the three heart emojis is Mitch. He is not this dorky- well okay- no! He is not sappy and disgusting with this Mitch. Or any Mitch!

It turns out to be Mitch.

Of course it does.

It takes him another five minutes wondering if he should scroll up to read through them. Surprisingly, he makes it up a few messages, most of them are short and to the point. If he could ignore the gross use of “babe”  and “Joey-bean” and the simple ones like, “Okay I gotta go now, I love you.”

Then there’s the… Pictures and Jonas decides to stop and send the text before his eyes have to witness anything more.

_I’m going in for breakfast._

He pulls on some pants and a t-shirt then proceeds to finds the bathroom down the hall, phone still carried in hand.

He’s disgruntled when he has to try to work out which toothbrush is his before opting out and going with mouthwash instead. Everything comes in double, there is no way this could be a dream unless his head is secretly super anal about all these details.

Dream? Ha, more like a surreal nightmare if he has to wake up every day next to a mostly naked Mitch.

He looks up at the mirror and he’s terrified how much it looks like him and not at the same time. His face is slimmer, aged with maturity and with the glasses it doubles. His freckles are as vivid as ever, though his hair seems to be more tamed.

This is who he is in this… Place thing.

The feelings inside him feel dull. The ones in his head are buzzing like busy working flies.

Why is this happening? Why now? What’s going on? Why Mitch?

_Why Mitch?_

He sighs big and heavy, he is exhausted and he hasn’t even done anything. He doesn’t feel secured in this body, whatever this body is. This is some screwed up timeline thing.

Should he tell him?

God, Mitch would probably never believe him. Though, they do seem to… Trust each other here. Weirdly enough. Ack, that’s gross.

He trudges out the room. The hallways are short, he doesn’t have trouble navigating his way through and finding the kitchen. It’s harder to not look at all the photos pasted on the wall. They’re all of Sidney, him and Sidney, which are fine. The ones he doesn’t want to see are with him and Mitch. He can’t handle it.

He slumps down on a chair, looking at Mitch who is at the counter pulling out the waffles from the toaster and onto a plate.

“He rises,” he says, while burning his hand against one of the waffles and cursing silently.

Jonas glances around the kitchen. The domesticity, it looks like they decorated it themselves. It’s sleek, and clean, but there looks to be some dishes piling up and dirty ash trays laying around. It feels both wrong and right and he’s wondering how that is.

This isn’t real, he has to keep repeating himself that to him. In any other world he would never end up with Mitch. So this is some sort of screwed up timeline where he does, that’s okay. As okay as it can be.

It’s not the strangest thing that has happened. He did trespass on a facility and somehow got powers due to it, _powers._ And well, Jonas isn’t exactly thrilled to wake up with Dean lecturing him again and having another dreary day at school.

He can suck it up and pretend to be this Mitch’s… Boyfriend? Husband? Eugh, this is fine. Everything is fine. He slumps his phone down on the table and breathes slowly in an attempt to relax himself.

“What’s on the menu?” He starts off with that, safe and sound. _Oh no what if they use nicknames for each other all the time, oh my gosh how is Jonas going to survive._

Mitch grins at finally getting a response, “We’ve got chocolate chip eggos with not one, but _two_ scoops of ice cream. Also your dumbass coffee.”

He places the plate in front of him and sure enough, vanilla scoops on top of small waffles that look kind of burnt around the edges but still edible. It’s almost laughable, not because it’s terrible but because it’s… Kinda cute.

“Ice cream for breakfast?” Jonas asks hesitantly.

“It’s not like we haven’t done so before,” Mitch says, it has Jonas imagining what else this Mitch and Jonas have been up to. He refuses to feel giddy; it doesn’t stop it from bubbling in his stomach, curious to hear stories about this timeline.

He busies himself cutting up his waffles and scooping them in his mouth. It’s good, really good. Jonas is never allowed to have this kind of breakfast, or he just avoids eating it at all. He also takes a sip from the coffee. It’s exactly how he takes it.

Huh.

“Not feeling so grumpy anymore?”

Jonas looks up and Mitch’s face is centimeters away from his face. He’s thankful he has a mouthful of waffle or else he’s sure he would have yelled directly into his mouth. He swallows hurriedly “Uh- n-no? No. Sorry I wasn’t… Feeling so good.”

He whispers it towards the end because he can feel his own breath.

“Don’t stay up so late,” Jesus _Crispy_ Christ. Mitch is fixing him with this stare that’s dripping with adoration and he wants to so hold his face, trace his fingers along the blush across Mitch’s cheeks. Mitch has never looked at him like that, or at least he thinks so, now he isn’t so sure.

It’s unlikely that this world and his world are linked.

He doesn’t look like the angry, obnoxious Mitch he knows.

“Who are you?”

It comes out without thinking. He almost sucks in a breath in panic but Mitch still has that painfully adoring expression.

“Eggo man.”

Jonas blinks before looking down, snorting and hiccuping through his laugh. He really thought he was in trouble for a moment and then this Mitch hits him with the dumbest line in the world. Mitch is a such a huge nerd oh my gosh. How in the world does he manage to look so intimidating yet do things like this for his Jonas?

It feels like a routine thing for them. The way Mitch is so willing to do anything for him, and he wonders what the Jonas from this world does for him as well. He wants to know how they work.

His own peels of laughter are suddenly interrupted with hands much larger than his coming up to hold his face up.

Then their a pair of lips on him and Jonas is set aflame.

He has to fight this body’s neediness.

It’s first instinct is to want to lean into him. His arms are trying to fight him and throw caution into the wind and loop his arms around Mitch’s neck. It wants to press into Mitch completely as if it were a natural thing to do.

Jonas thinks idly how he’s gone lax and wants to be completely enraptured by him. He had no idea how good Mitch can feel against him-

No.

He jerks back, faster than ever before and leans so far back in his chair that it almost falls over behind him. He completely separates himself from the fire and now he is drowning in the cold waters of his own despair. His hand comes up to his mouth and his eyes are downcasted.

Without thinking he wipes his mouth, rough and hard.

He can’t do this, he can’t and won’t be okay doing this. Jonas isn’t a liar, he’s the worst liar in this entire planet.

“... Jonas?”

His wide eyes go to look up at Mitch. It breaks him all over again, the part of his heart that shouldn’t care about him throbs. There’s a voice screaming at him, it asking him why he did that, he’s supposed to love him but he’s _not_ himself.

The guilt floods over him instantly and leaves him freezing. He needs to save himself or else he’ll jeopardize whatever this Mitch and Jonas have.

He doesn’t want Mitch to look at him like that.

His expression has been so loving this entire time and the sadness doesn’t look okay.

It’s not right, he can’t do this to himself.

“Mitch I’m. I’m sorry.” He apologizes first, his mind racing to try to find a way to explain this.

This Mitch tries his best to grin, but it’s not the same. It doesn’t have the brightness as it did before. He’s ever so adoring,  but it’s layered with something hurt and there looks to be a vague reminiscence of the past.

“It’s alright,” no! “You had a bad day, Spots.”

No, no Jonas can’t do this no matter how much his Mitch bullies him, this Mitch clearly feels something for him. Well not him, the Jonas- the Other Jonas. This is mcfreaking confusing.

“No! I can’t do this anymore!” Jonas almost slaps his hand over his mouth again. Those choice of words are absolutely horrendous because now Mitch looks even more panicked than before. He looks heartbroken, god no! No!

“I’m not your Jonas! I mean, I am but- I woke up this morning and this is? I’m not from this world and is this the future, or a different timeline or something but I’m not your husband. I’m supposed to be eighteen years old and in high school!” He tries to say as quickly as possible. Mitch’s face contorts into sad, confused, and downright puzzled by the end of it.

“What?” Mitch says, “Are you pulling my shit here?”

“No! I swear I’m not!” Jonas gets up from his chair, his arms waving as he talks, “I don’t know what’s going on. I don’t know why I’m here or what’s going on but I promise you I’m not your Jonas. I’m from a small town, and I’m in foster care with my sister Sidney, our caretaker’s name is Dean and I go to Sellwood high school! And we’re lab partners! We’re lab partners in my world! We’re in this class and we have to do a project on-”

“Environmental science, I know.” Mitch interrupts him and leaves Jonas all scattered. He looks at him, he doesn’t look angry, if not a little perplexed but strangely understanding.

Mitch rubs his temples, his eyebrow twitching and it looks as if he’s trying to contemplate this. It looks like the beginning of a headache. “Okay so… You’re not Joey?”

“Well I am but-”

“I mean uh, my husband. Joey.” Mitch coughs, and it’s weird to see him being so skittish. He wants to know what he’s thinking.

“Yeah I’m not… I don’t know why this happened,” he adds meekly. “I’m not really in a position to lie… I promise I’m not your… Joey. Sorry.”

“It’s fine just… You sure? Are you okay?” Mitch asks, he starts looking over at the counter, grabbing a box of what appears to be cigarettes and a lighter.

“I’m sure... “ He doesn’t say anything more because he might end up making a fool of himself if he tries. He stays quiet, looking down at his feet feeling like a child for not trying harder.

In the presence of this Mitch things are off. It’s like being in a room with a stranger and the tension is so thick he can cut it with a knife. The other leans back against their kitchen counter and lights one of his cigarettes to smoke.

He laughs suddenly, and it makes him jumps. “I shoulda known. Joey loves cuddling in the morning.” There’s a fond look on his face. It does things to Jonas.

Well he sure… Accepted that really quick.

“You… You believe me?” He asks, not believing it could be that easy.

“Eh, stranger things have happened. Fucking hell kid, I’ve seen a lot of shit through these years so,”  Mitch shrugs, “I’m just hoping to get my Joey back. Tomorrow is Saturday.”

He’s relieved that this wasn’t a lot of trouble although he has to ask, “What does Saturdays have to do with anything?”

Mitch grins, “You really aren’t him…” He puts out his cigarette on a shiny ashtray and pushes himself off the counter.

“It’s date night!”

 

* * *

 

 

After that Jonas finishes up his breakfast while Mitch busies himself smoking and staring out the window, deep in thought. Although, he kind of looks like an angsty adult. It gives him a good laugh despite the demeanor of the room being kind of serious.

He heads off to their living room. It feels so homey and safe, which isn’t what he would expect an outcome of something he and Mitch own. He doesn’t understand why he’s filled with such longing and nostalgia.

Jonas sees that their couch is layered in blankets and cute couch pillows, some of them even shaped like cats. He picks up one of them, there’s knitted writing on it.

_“Congratulations on your Wedding”_

Jonas is mad at how adorable that really is. He puts it down and scans the rest of the room.

Mitch, his apparent husband in this world, must be the owner of the bong sitting proudly on their table as well as all the lighters, arranged by color. There are files of work papers, bills, and ugh, were those taxes? It’s almost too adult to look at.

Jonas sits down on the sofa, and immediately wedges himself in the far corner. It must looks like he’s withdrawing himself as much as can from the environment. He pulls his knees up to his chest and isn’t sure if he’s exhausted or anxious. A mix of both maybe.

He takes out his phone, uh the other Jonas’ phone, and starts to look through it. He pretends he’s a detective cracking a cold case by gathering clues. His call history is minimal, most of them to Mitch (with the three heart emoji’s) and to Sidney.

There’s a number only labeled “Center” and he’s not exactly sure what that means. There’s another one called “Work” and it makes him wonder what he ends up to be in this world. Is he working at some boring day job at the local diner? Or is he some kind of researcher for NASA?

He wants to ask Mitch but he’s not sure how that conversation will go down. He ignores it.

There’s a lot of messages between him and Sidney, of course. The last thing was sent by her, it’s a picture of a baby seal lying on his back. She knows him so well.

He explores the images and videos next.

In result almost drops his phone because of how it’s treading the number 1,000 and how there’s an alarming amount of him and Mitch. There’s also many pictures of skateboards and buildings, as well as? Huh?

There’s a lot of saved pictures of rooms and dog breeds. Were they planning on getting a dog or something? A lot of them are small dogs too. He tries to imagine him and Mitch with the tiniest dog in the world, maybe even a baby chihuahua, ha! As if!

All of the series of pictures are like untold stories, they each have depth and meaning and Jonas finds himself craving for some context. He shouldn’t have to either! This isn’t his life, it isn’t his universe, so why does he care so much?

He slides an image over to a video, he presses play and his eyes widen when his senses are assaulted with the loud audio.

 _“Stand farther back!”_ Jonas blinks dumbly. His own voice coming from the video, it sounds like he was in the middle of breathless laughter and it’s much more relaxed than usual. It’s different, in a good way.

 _“Joey I’m gonna fall the fuck over!”_ The Mitch in the video shouts over the sound of waves crashing behind him. It’s a shot of him standing in front of the waves, they’re at a beach and there’s no sun. In fact, the sky is completely covered in grey clouds.

He’s wearing absurd shark printed swim trunks and if Jonas squints, he can see his roots growing out. The winds sound strong in the background and it looks like Mitch is trying to balance himself on the sand.

 _“Babe!”_ The ‘a’ is long and drawn out, Jonas tries not to cringe at how the voice goes high towards the end, “ _I promise you’re not gonna fall! Come on I need this quick!”_

 _“Just take the dumb photo already!”_ There’s a distant sound of thunder, _“Joey-bean!!”_

 _“I-I need you to keep standing-”_ Video Jonas is wheezing through his laughter, _“This is art, Mitch!”_

_“Why am I doing this?!”_

_“It’s for science, honey come on-”_

_“I’m gonna die!”_

_“You’re not gonna die you big baby!”_

_“Don’t call me t- FUCK!”_ The video proceeds with Mitch falling the heck over as a large wave comes up and crashes right into his calves. He falls comically backwards, screaming and the video ends it cutting out, only a “ _MITCH-”_ could be heard before it stops.

Jonas puts his hand against his cheek, it’s aching from him smiling too hard. They’re such nerds oh my gosh. It’s finally setting in that this is real. He’s aware that he fears his Mitch, he’s this rowdy rascal, loud-mouthed, smelly trailer park owner but even then… When they were out on that facility Mitch did everything to keep him safe.

He lifted him out of the fence, he held him close in the forest so they wouldn’t give away their location. Yeah he’s a creep but… Perhaps there is more beneath all those layers of freaky, scary, bully behavior.

Jonas goes back to look through more, trying to find another video and he’s successful when he spots one from a few months ago. He clicks on it without a thought.

He makes a sound when he sees himself. He’s being recorded, he- other Jonas is looking into the camera with a strange expression. The angle is taken by someone who is sitting down, Jonas standing looking mousy.

 _“Why are you using my phone?”_ He asks, his face an impressive shade of red.

 _“My quality sucks, I want you to send this later to me.”_ It’s Mitch’s voice. The top of Jonas’s ears go warm with how gravelly and deep he sounded right there.

 _“Creep…”_ The Jonas in the video fiddles with his hands for a moment, _“how did you talk me into this?”_

_“Are ya backin’ out?”_

_“No. Never said that just... You sure you locked the door?”_

Jonas squints, trying to understand what exactly is happening. He hears video Mitch laugh at him.

_“I’m pretty sure you checked twice already. Come on Joey-bean, no one's gonna fuckin’ walk in.”_

Video him gives a shy smile, _“Alright, jerk. I’ll take your word for it.”_ Then he’s dropping to his knees, right in front of Mitch and Jonas watches as a pale hand comes into frame. It cradles video Jonas’s face and he leans into it.

_“Hell yeah, that’s the spirit.”_

Jonas just about screams when he watched himself in the video start to unbuckle- Nope! No! We’re not doing this today! We’re not doing this tomorrow! We’re not doing this ever! He exits out of the video at the speed of light and his heart is racing as if he just ran for 5 miles.

_Holy guacamole._

“Jonas?”

This time Jonas really does yelp, he chucks the phone onto the coffee table but it keeps sliding until it drops down onto their carpet. “ _Nothing_! I’m doing nothing!”

Mitch lifts a curious eyebrow but says nothing about the matter. “Uh right. Anyways, so do you have fuckin’ clue how you got here?”

He takes a big gulp of air. Okay, this is regular talk good, he can do this. “No? Not really, I just woke up like this.”

“Hm,” Mitch crosses his arms, he looks closed off and uncomfortable. He’s definitely not acting like the same guy who he just watched on his phone. “What if you go back to sleep?”

“Huh?”

“You got here waking up right? Sleep and maybe bam, you’ll be back. No offense, but I want my husband back. It’s too fuckin’ quiet here.”

That’s… Not a bad idea. “I hadn’t thought about it… I mean, I’ll give it a shot.”

“Yeah just,” Mitch waves his hand to gesture towards the couch he’s sitting on, “make yourself all cozy and shit, no rush.” He stands there for a moment, clearly disgruntled before giving Jonas a thumbs up and going back to, presumably, their room.

They are practically walking on eggshells around each other, and he can’t blame him. This is not really a simple predicament but he’s going to do whatever it takes to get back. Hey, sleeping is his expertise.

He takes his glasses off and makes himself a little nest, laying down in the very comfortable couch. He wraps his body around the linen blankets and inhales deeply. It smells like cigarettes and cinnamon, it’s not a bad combination by any means.

His head is swirling with thoughts but he’s glad to get some rest. It’s only around eleven pm and he’s ready to never wake up ever again. This shouldn’t be happening to him. It’s too bizarre to wrap his head around. He only hopes to wake up in his own bed, but then again.

There is that inkling of rejection.

If he wakes up he’ll have to go back. He’ll be back in his own world where he’s going to face his problems once more, and it’s going to go on again and again. Nothing will change. The Jonas in the videos sounded so carefree and was even courageous to do… Certain acts on camera.

Most importantly, he could tell he was happy here.

He doesn’t know how or why he went from being appalled from the thought of him and Mitch being together, to finding comfort that in this life at least they love each other. They must, right? All those pictures, dates, and gifts, even the furniture has its own flare of sentimental value.

They’re completely and utterly in love.

In the back of his head there’s a thought: What if this is going to be your eventual future?

The very thought of waking up next to Mitch every morning, in a shared apartment, nearly nude and sharing sleepy kisses… It should set him off. He can’t describe what he’s feeling other than “funny.”  What is he going to do when he get’s back?

Jonas doesn’t think he would be able to forget this.

It’s going to be sewed into his head that somewhere, out there, is a timeline where he and Mitch manage to fall so in love each other that they have their future all planned out. There is a world where Jonas stops being so miserable in the foster care system and goes to settle down with a man he loves.

There is a him out there, completely free and unrestrained.

This is a place where even when the skies are completely monotone and without color, they can still find liveliness within each other. The weather doesn’t dictate anything if they could make fun out of it.

It doesn’t need to be sunny here for them to have a good time.

He wants that. Oh god, Jonas wants that.

He wants to be loved, he wants to be cuddled he doesn’t care if that makes him a child. Why should he be held back to the expectations of Dean?

It fills him with giddy, his face is flushing and he squeezes his eyes even tighter at the thought. Maybe the end game won’t always be with Mitch but… Well. It’s not… So bad sounding.

But then again, maybe he doesn’t deserve it.

This is a dream come true- oh well… As much as it can be ending up with Mitch.

What’s really important is that it’s quiet. It’s normal but his days are bright. His heart is aching, he yearns for this pattern. He wants to come home and have someone waiting for him. He wants someone to help him pay the bills. He wants to be able to pick a spot in bed and then have someone warm always next to him.

That familiarity, the feeling of home, the happiness.

Why doesn’t he have that? Why can’t he have that?

He wants to know everything right now. Do they shove each other while brushing their teeth together? Do they have late nights watching their favorite movies? Do they sit on their kitchen counter drinking hot drinks together and just talk?

How much do they kiss.

Jonas licks his lower lip. He knows he wiped it off earlier but it felt good while it lasted.

It felt _so good._

He wants it once more, twice more, and then a third time.

As if his mind fizzes out like soda into a slumber, Jonas realizes he doesn’t want to leave this universe.

 

 

* * *

 

He wakes up with a bad case of dry mouth.

The lack of moisture in his mouth has him getting up, legs wobbly but they’re at least strong enough so his knees wouldn’t give it. His feet know where to go and they guide him towards the kitchen, the cold floor has him clenching his teeth and hissing quietly.

It’s almost an out of body experience with how he instantly knows where to get the mugs, he get’s a one with several pawprints on it, and then he’s pouring himself some water.

His mouth is grateful once he gets to quench his thirst. The gross feeling of having cotton balls in your mouth soon dissipating and Jonas smacks his lips, leaning sleepily against the sink.

He’s in a land of white crackling noise, his head completely in the clouds while he tries to recover from his own sleepy daze. Suddenly, he remembers everything and his entire head snaps, nearly getting whiplash, as he quickly scans the vicinity around him,

Same kitchen, the ashtrays, the way that everything is in doubles, oh god.

 _I’m still here,_ he thinks.

He needs to tell Mitch. Tell him that it failed and he’s not sure what to do about it. How the hell is he supposed to get back? What if he’s in some sort of comatose state back home?

 

Is Sidney okay? He misses her. Oh gosh, what if he missed school as well. Jonas doesn’t think he can afford to miss a day, oh no. They have to try something else, straight away because as nice as this is, he doesn’t want to have anyone worrying after him back in his timeline

And oh man, what if he switched bodies? Could it be that the future Jonas is over there, probably freaked out of his mind?!

What if future Jonas in his body tries to _kiss_ Mitch! _Oh god!_

He tries to race into the hallway of their bedroom, he forgets his glasses on the coffee table so the blur around his eyes are back, but now his adrenaline is spiking up and he’s not sure he can see straight in generall.

Jonas opens a door at random and turns on the light. He’s about to slam it shut he’s greeted with a room that isn’t theirs but he stops completely stops to take it in.

_Woah._

He’s standing in the open doorway of what could only be described… As a nursery.

Jonas slowly shuffles forward, he’s pretty sure he’s gaping like a fish as he looks back and forth of the light lavender colored walls. There’s a white crib at the center of the room with toys hanging above it, rocking gently.

The room has a soft carpet and it is a little kid’s wonderland. There’s a block set, packages of unopened boxes that are all labeled with “Toys and stuff.” Everything about this room smells of softness, from the sheer curtains to the diaper station built on the left. Jonas is overwhelmed with emotion, eyes growing wet.

He goes closer to the crib to look inside to see a bunch of plush toys. All of varying colors, he almost chokes up at the seal plushie tossed in there as well. It has spots and everything, oh my god.

There’s a warm colored blanket with bear patterns, and even a music box set that plays rocka bye baby when turned on. It leaves him shell-shocked at the idea. He didn’t _think_ he was this type of person to go the extra mile and...

_Do they have a kid?_

“Joey?”

Jonas whips around, jesus how many times has Mitch given him a mini heart attack today? He’s not sure how much he can take of this.

Mitch is standing by the door, eyes hopeful and his shoulders hiked up, “Did it work?” He asks.

Jonas looks down, he spots more little blocks with pictures of elephants, bears, and birds, there’s a rattle at his feet and a few bibs. He looks up at the man he’s supposed to have everything with and says a nervous, “No.”

Mitch’s shoulders slump down, he scoffs and he looks more annoyed now. He has to fix this, he has to he always has to.

“I-I’m sorry, Mitch. I don’t know what to do-”

“Save it. I want my fucking Spots back, cut the shit, why are you here?” Mitch is scowling now, and he’s walking towards him. He feels three feet tall under his cold stare, he doesn’t know what to do.

“I-I don’t-” his voice is nonexistent. It trails off weakly and before he knows it, the tears are coming again. Gosh, he’s such a crybaby! He’s so pathetic and weak, why can’t he stop crying? He’s usually stronger than this! He’s supposed to have a tough will but it’s all caving into nothingness. _Please don’t look at me like that,_ is all he can think.

Mitch softens quickly, “Jesus uh, please don’t do that in his body- I’m,” he sighs, wrapping his arms around Jonas and he’s encompassed by the scent of smoke and solid. He melts into it, clutching back onto him as tight as he can. This body craves Mitch’s contact like a vice.

“I want to go home,” he cries, he’s making a mess of the front of Mitch’s shirt with his own blotchy tears. But does he really want to? Is home what he wants?

Mitch keeps holding him, his hands are running through his thick unruly hair. Somehow he knows that this isn’t the first time Mitch has had to do this for him before. He is good at this, a bit jittery but he’s doing his best, and he’s placing kisses on top of his head. It’s sugary sweet, and Jonas doesn’t even protest, he wants to be this close and he can’t deny it anymore.

“Joey- man, come on.” He’s murmuring into his hair, “You gotta think, use that smart brain of yours...  Why are you here?” he asks again, and this time Jonas does try to think.

He sniffles, his head still being cradled against the other’s chest. He thinks back at what he was doing beforehand, how his routine played out differently, or did he encounter something that caused an entire rift? His powers maybe? No, he’s had them for a few days already and nothing like this has happened before.

What could it be? Was it-

Oh.

_Oh._

Was that it?

“Can we go to our- I mean, your room? I think… I figured it out.”

 

* * *

 

Jonas tells Mitch everything.

He tells him about how where he’s from, though Mitch knows it pretty well already. He tells him about all those slimy wretched feelings that remind him of spider legs and cockroaches. They’re so disgusting and he feels like an emotional brat for not being grateful for what he has and instead wallowing about his own insecurities.

He tells him how inadequate he is. How much he wishes he could be physically stronger or not so intolerable all the damn time. He even tells him about how he keeps most things bottled until it all reaches a breaking point and he completely explodes.

Mitch’s hands turn into balls of fists when he starts talking about the jocks at school.

The descriptions of their awful lip curls, their judgmental eyes boring into him, and how their words are like spikes digging into his flesh has Mitch shaking his leg. He stares hard at his hands, as if he’s remembering something from the past before he sits close to him. He tells Jonas to continue, his arm now around him protectively.

It feels good and terrible to talk about it outloud.

The intense dread he get’s thinking about school or how if it weren’t for the stupid kids at school he probably would have never developed deep insecurity issues.

Then he moves onto the most sensitive part.

Dean.

Mitch groans at that name, “God, what did that shitstain do? I swear to fuck- Did he hurt you? If he did I’m going to fucking murder his-”

“No! No he didn’t hurt me! Well not... Physically?” Jonas laughs a bit, without it being funny, “He says a lot of things to me, y’know? It… Hurts a lot. More than I wanna admit, heh.”

“I should have curb stomped that ass when I had the chance. My Joey, god, same thing. Dean is fucking disgusting, the name Dean is stupid too, why the fuck are you called Dean? Get a new name asswipe.” Mitch grumbles, but grins for a moment when Jonas shakes with laughter.

“Ha! Yeah… He sure is something. But, I don’t know. That day he made me think… Things.” He shrugs.

“What kinda things?” Mitch asked and Jonas inhales and exhales slowly.

“Like… That I’d never amount to anything. Not worth much, or anything. Not worth happiness… Getting out of the system and…” he trails off, not wanting to finish his thought. Mitch grips onto his shoulder.

“There really is no better future for me, that’s the last thought I had before falling asleep and then… Here I am.” Jonas says without much flare. Who knew that expressing emotions for more than five minutes really takes it out of you? He wants to take another nap.

“Joey…” Mitch mumbled an unintelligible string of words before gathering up his thoughts. “Listen, kid. You’re what? Eighteen in your world?” Jonas nods, “Okay so here’s the thing. I’m an old geezer myself but you? Fuck kid, you got the world ahead of you.”

“It sure doesn’t feel that way…”

“It get’s better.”

Jonas smiles, pained. He shakes his head, “No way. I don’t think I can-”

“No, listen to old man Mitch, you gotta keep going. High school is the most bullshit time of your life, but you gotta keep telling yourself that it get’s better. It sounds gay as hell, but you know what else is gay? Me. And you know something else? If my ass, my trailer park ass with a fucked up dad and all, got to be here today. Okay and with,” he pauses for a moment.

He looks down at Jonas again, it takes his breath away. It’s that completely in love look, the one that makes Jonas feel like he’s Mitch’s everything “If I turned out okay. And got to be with you of all people... Then you’re gonna be okay too.”

Jonas is unable to rip his eyes away from Mitch’s. He is absolutely entranced with them, he wants to feel this special forever.

“You love him,” he whispers, like it’s a dirty secret.

“I love him more than anything in this damned world.”

His eyes flicker down to Mitch’s lips for half a second, he aches for them to be on his. Okay now wow, he clears his throat and finally looks away down to his feet. _Don’t think about kissing him, this is a serious, Jonas. Get your head in the game!._

“Anyways! Um… I know you’re. You did turn out great Mitch. Gosh, look at this place, your Jonas must be happy to have you. You two look like you make a really good pair,” he doesn’t mean to sound melancholy but he’s only human.

Mitch hums, “And you and your Mitch?”

“Oh uh, me and my Mitch we’re not really.” Jonas is shaking his head quickly, “we’re not anything! At the most we’re lab partners but no. No way. He’s my bully and all.”

“Well,” Mitch takes his arm off his shoulders, he has to stop himself from telling him to keep it there. “I was Joey’s bully too. All the way back in middle school, fuck I was dumb.”

Jonas feels his head short circuit. “Yeah… My Mitch he, also bullied me back in middle school. B-but you and your Jonas, you must have gotten along much more faster?”

The man snorts, “Fuck no. We didn’t get along until we were both eighteen and had that project about the leaves and forest. As dumb as it was, if we didn’t have that shit project I don’t think me and my Joey-bean would have ever hooked up.”

There is no way.

This is a timeline gone haywire. He’s in another universe entirely this isn’t… This cannot be depicting Jonas’s future.

“I… That’s nice,” he said, “Um, so you and your Jonas… You have a kid?”

Mitch gives him a look, “Nah. We want one though. We built the nursery together a month back. You- my Joey’s been calling up this one adoption center. Frankly, I’m terrified! But fuck kid, I want this bad.”

“That’s… Really nice Mitch. I believe in you. The both of you…”

“You gotta believe in your shit as well. You have to like… Want to go home.” Mitch words kinda dumbly but it get’s the point across nicely.

Jonas sighs, “Yeah but... “

“Listen. You get back there, don’t run away from these fucking things. If I can see my younger self, well I’d high five him first of all. Then I’d tell him to get the fucking stick out of his ass, shit is gonna be alright. You gotta want to go back. Your clone’s probably worried for you.” He adds on.

“Sidney?”

“Yeah, that one.”

“Heh.” He sighs again, he’s been doing that a lot. “... You’re right.”

“Of course I am! I’m ol’ wise Mitch, after all!” Mitch moves away, then all at once he’s pressing his forehead against Jonas and his eyes almost pop out of their sockets. “And y’know what. The me in your world? He better take care of you and protect you. I’ve got a feeling he’s like a lost puppy trailing after ya.”

His breath is hot against his lips.

Before he get’s a chance to speak Mitch makes that extra mile and pushes against his mouth. His eyes flutter shut, this time he’s not rejecting it at all. He wants to say that it’s the body craving Mitch’s attention but really… There’s that little part that is actually attracted to this creep.

He makes a noise at the back of his throat when he feels Mitch’s tongue brush against the seam of his lips and enters without another word.

Mitch keeps him steady, one hand on his waist and the other in his hair. He’s never done anything like this before. Jonas is amazed at how hot it feels, his chest is bursting with colors and he feels the wisps of pink light surround them. He wants it, he wants Mitch, he makes a move and kisses him back. Tentatively and very much anxious, but oh does it feel right.

The wet popping sound when they separate has Jonas flushed all over. He feels weird for licking his lips, still wanting to taste Mitch against him.

“Yeah, you really are eighteen year old Joey.” Mitch throws his head back to laugh grossly, and Jonas joins him this time. He feels content.

He’s not sure what happens afterwards.

All he knows is that they kept kissing. And kissing. And some more kissing.

Once Jonas got the taste of what it’s like to feel someone that close, to let another person break down his walls and see all the messy parts of him, well, he doesn’t stop for a while. He adores the feeling.

Eventually, it all comes to an end, like the last page out of a book.

He’s a master at dozing off, really good at it in between kisses as well.

And like that he is gone. Not exactly excited to go back but he knows one thing for sure. Things really are going to get better.

 

* * *

 

Jonas can’t help but feel the devastating disappointment when he wakes up alone in his tiny twin bed.

The air is cold in his room, the heater must have not turned on overnight. There is no one holding him, just his blankets hazardously clinging to him and it has him tripping out of bed. He feel sluggish and like he’s being dragged by his own feet.

The time reads 5 am on his clock, he wasn’t in a coma or dying or anything, he was here the next day. It was like the day with the other Mitch had never existed in the first place.

It’s too early to be able to do anything but Jonas doesn’t think he can sleep in his cold room. He brushes his teeth, he picks out an outfit, and makes some toast. There’s no eggos in the fridge or vanilla ice cream. He isn’t allowed to touch the coffee.

He feels like he should be more sad. More empty on the inside.

It’s surprising when it’s the exact opposite.

Jonas wants to conquer something.

He’s riding down the concrete sidewalk, skateboard beneath his feet and seeing the friendly lights trailing after. He has to go to school, and it’s going to be another hard day but all that is going to pay off one day.

And as he looks up he notices the sun isn’t out. It’s still hiding behind layers and layers of fluffy grey clouds.

Jonas smiles because his stomach is at ease even when the clouds override the sun.

**Author's Note:**

> SO I HAD TO REUPLOAD THIS BECAUSE IT WAS BEING WEIRD BUT WHATEVER
> 
> This is a fanfic for the webcomic Long Exposure
> 
> You can read it at longexposurecomic.tumblr.com
> 
> Please support the artist at smokeplanet.tumblr.com ! I run the blog mitjo.tumblr.com and you can go over there to talk about the comic/send headcanons.


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